


Regret

by Mikazuki_Mitsukai



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha!Damian, Alpha!Ra's, Halp?, I dunno how to tag?, Multi, Omega!Tim, a/o/b, all the romantic relationships are one-sided, alpha!Lex, alpha!bruce, basically Tim is the only omega in the fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 17:09:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16685683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikazuki_Mitsukai/pseuds/Mikazuki_Mitsukai
Summary: Contrary to what some people might believe, Bruce did not regret having Tim for a son. He loves his third son just as much as he loves his other kids.(But he may or may not regret the responsibility that comes with having an omega child)





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed, of course. Mistakes and shitty writing in general is on me and I'm sorry.

Contrary to what some people might believe, Bruce does not regret having Tim for a son. He loves his third son just as much as he loves his other kids. He’d even surrender the batcomputer for Tim’s video game binge sometimes (they always ended in the keyboard missing several keys and the mouse smashed to pieces somewhere in the depth of the cave). Not to mention, Tim is the only one of the bat bunch who borrowed his sweaters and actually returned them (after at least three months, but that’s _not_ the point). So, no, Bruce is infinitely grateful for the boy’s existence in his life, several “ _I’m this fucking close, B!_ ” moments in their complicated pack relationship notwithstanding.

 

However, Bruce cannot deny that his fourth child is recently the source of his migraines and expanding need to remind himself why Batman refuses to bend the rules he sets for himself and his fellow heroes. And why sometimes he caught himself thinking, “Well, _Batman_ can’t but __Bruce Wayne__  is certainly within his goddamn _rights_ to-wait, **NO**!”

 

It started on a fine morning in spring. Bruce was in his study, enjoying a cup of white coffee he discreetly stole from Tim’s stash with a side snack of cookies Jason thought he managed to brilliantly appropriated from under Alfred’s nose, the foolish child. Gotham had been quiet and peaceful for a bit, allowing for satisfying midnight-to-brunch sleep his complexion desperately needed. There were no pressing cases. No alien invasions. No pranks played in the manor and becoming acceptable casualty in them. Life was good.

 

Bruce should’ve realized that such niceties weren’t for _Batman_ and life is a bitch.

 

The door to the study opened with a deafening **_BAM_**. The coffee would’ve spilled all over Bruce’s precious worn Bali t-shirt from five years ago if it wasn’t empty but for a couple of drops left. However, considering who just threw the doors like they’re mere flicks of papers, those leftover drops will be enough to become extremely incriminating evidence under Tim’s sharp nose and eyes. It took all of the middle-aged man’s self control not to show that his stomach had just plummeted several miles bellow the batcave and his heart rate was going faster than Wally West chasing after a stack of pizza.

 

“Tim.” He greeted his son. Whose face was neutral.

 

Bruce mentally reread his most recent will and wondered if he’ll live long enough to add a little revision.

 

“What is it, kiddo?”

 

Tim didn’t immediately reply. He took his time sauntering up to Bruce’s desk, a file waved around in one hand, which he then put beside the cookie plate. Who was soon missing several

 

Bruce lets the pillage happen in hopes of forgiveness.

 

“So,” Tim started around a mouthful of crumbly chocolatey goodness. Thank god his mouth is closed. “you know how two weeks ago we finally told the press and the public that I’m actually an omega, but will still run WE as usual despite backlash from several shareholders because omegas are just as capable as alphas and betas?”

 

Bruce nodded, immediately on alert because the event was still fresh in his mind along with the derogatory words thrown around by mouths who ought to be washed with antibacterial solutions. He also remembered how Tim almost broke down and cry when they were finally alone, trembling in his father’s arms.

 

“Then you remember telling everyone that I’m free to make my own decisions, be it regarding my job, my interest, and even mating bonds because you love me and wants the best for me and who else knows what’s best for me if not myself?” Tim continued, not noticing or ignoring the hardness growing in Bruce’s eyes.

 

“Of course.” Bruce nodded. His dread was growing with every millisecond passed. Tim is stalling. Whatever this is about could _not_ be good.

 

“Then!” Tim straightened up and pushed the file on the desk closer to Bruce. “Because I know what’s best for me, I relinquish the duty to choose my future husband to _you_ , Dad. I know you’d have my best interest in mind. And you know my tastes. And considering my track record with relationships, I think it’s better if you’re the one doing the choosing instead of me!”

 

Tim’s beaming smile was blinding against Bruce’s dumbstruck expression.

 

“Wha-”

 

Tim rose quickly from his seat and zipped past the open door in less than two seconds while managing to snatch the rest of the cookies off the plate.

 

“Okay, I’ll be off, then! I’ve got a meeting with Stark Industry in an hour. Wish me luck!”

 

By the time Bruce managed to do more than blink in bewilderment, Tim’s car was already speeding up the driveway. The file on his desk contained legal forms for guardianship and the right to decide his son’s future.

 

It was how everything began. With a fucked up beginning that led to a miserable journey with very vague possibility of a happy ending. For Bruce, at least. The future certainly is looking bleak. As bleak as the position he’s currently in, sitting face to face with Ra’s al Ghul in a newly opened Middle-Eastern restaurant. _Uh-huh_ -ing and _Hmmm_ -ing at the things he said to appear listening. Discussing Ra’s’ third attempt at "bargaining _ _"__ for Tim’s hand in marriage.

 

Bruce curses the upper class’ marriage bond etiquette. He hates that every proposal of alphas with appropriate economic and social background cannot be rejected outright and must be heard at least __once__. He despises the fact that 78% of the people vying for Tim had no consideration for things like _age difference _.__  Or allegiance. And that they do not know the meaning of _giving up _.__

__

For six months, his evenings were booked with dinners with people he had no desire to even converse with on a regular basis, let alone let within six feet of his omega son. Who is apparently highly desirable due to his wealth, social standing, job, good looks, exquisite scent (ugh, _gross_ , Ra’s!), hot bod ( _vomit_ ), and other desirable traits Bruce really didn’t need to be informed about.

 

Bruce really really loves his only omega son. He really does. But, oh, how he longed to confiscate all the coffee the little shit owns and suspend his netflix account for this. One more suitor sneering and making not-so-vague lewd comments about Tim’s rear end and he might break Brucie Wayne’s laid back persona.

 

Bruce was pulled back into the present at Ra’s’ discreet “Ahem.” because reporters hide __everywhere__.

 

“Please pay attention, Mr. Wayne.” Ra’s chided him with barely concealed disdain, clearly miffed at having to deal with Brucie. “If this is how you behave when we are discussing dowry, it’s no wonder Lex Luthor is so convinced Timothy will be wed to him before the year ends.”

 

_Wait, what?_

 

Ra’s sighed in exasperation. Bruce can’t be bothered to acknowledge it, his mind was planning _stuff_.

 

Alright, that explained the betrayed look Tim’s been sending him the past couple of days.

 

Bruce wondered if Damian would like to be sent to Metropolis for a vacation, to visit Jon and maybe have a chat with a certain bald supervillain. The boy has been _very_ devoted in his alpha-sibling duties, recently. Helping Bruce with Tim’s suitors’ background checks and sorting letters and such. Might be good to sate his blood-lust.

**Author's Note:**

> It's what you get for stealing Tim's coffee, B.
> 
>  
> 
> How to sleep before 3 in the morning? Cause I can't??? Even if I want to?????????


End file.
